


burnt-out ends of smokey days

by minarchy



Category: X-Men - All Media Types, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Circus, Alternate Universe - High School, Circus, Gen, Performance Art, Street & Stage Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-22
Updated: 2011-12-22
Packaged: 2017-10-27 19:17:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/299163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minarchy/pseuds/minarchy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When he had toured with his parents, before the war and the ban on almost all troupes, they had often performed in places like this. He had slept more nights than not on greasy vinyl flooring, wrapped in his father's overcoat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	burnt-out ends of smokey days

The gig was a tiny, gritty building in Reno, but it was better than nothing. In fact, it was a lot better than most things, because no one was going to be looking for him in a place like this. Erik Lehnsherr had been _going places_ , and no one with talent like his would be seen dead in the _Blue Moon Lounge_. Sebastian would have had a fit.

Erik, however, liked it. When he had toured with his parents, before the war and the ban on almost all troupes, they had often performed in places like this. He had slept more nights than not on greasy vinyl flooring, wrapped in his father's overcoat. He had slept in many worse places since.

The _Blue Moon_ had a set of regular acts, as well; a comedy act of three teenaged boys that relied almost entirely on slapstick, a kid that was billed as 'The Man Who Cannot Die', and an illusionist with his sister who acted as his assistant. Erik was an escapologist, and had the suit who had hired him had been most excited to have a different act on his books. His secretary, Moira, who appeared to actually deal with the entire running of the _Blue Moon_ , had given him a tired, steely look before scrawling his time slot on the back of a business card, and directing him to the dressing room.

"Oh, you must be the new guy!"

The illusionist, a dark-haired, beaming man with an Oxford accent and a worryingly tweed jacket, dropped his chair in front of Erik and sat down with a sense of finality. Erik just looked at him. The man, seemingly unperturbed by Erik's own lack of enthusiasm, stuck out his hand.

"Charles Xavier," he said. "It's absolutely wonderful to meet you."

"You'll have to forgive Charlie," said Xavier's sister, swanning past them in a silk robe. "He gets so excited when he meets new people."

"Raven, please," Charles said. "Go and put some clothes on."

The three boys were bickering in the corner.

"Our Three Stooges," Raven said, rolling her eyes. "Sean, Alex and Hank."

"New guy!" Sean bounded up to them, grinning. "What's it that you do?"

"Read the Goddamn flier, Sean," Alex said, elbowing him. Sean shoved him back, so he knocked Hank; who scowled at him, and pushed Alex hard enough to knock into Sean. Sean promptly fell down, all long limbs and over-enthusiasm.

"And that's Armando," Raven said, pointing over to the far side of the room. The black man was reading the paper in a corner.

"Hey, Mandy!" Sean yelled, too loud for the small space. "Fresh meat!"

"Sean," Charles said, reprimandingly. "Don’t speak to people like that, I've told you."

"I'm nothing special," Erik said. "Just a circus freak."

Raven raised an eyebrow at him. "Honey, we're all freaks here." She stepped away from them, twirling on the spot; and her robe spun out into a glittering dress, ready for her performance.

"Impressive," Erik said.

"Isn't she?" Charles said, smiling. "She deserves her own show; but they won't let her perform on her own."

"Bigoted bastards," Raven said, without feeling. "Besides, Charlie wouldn't manage on his own. He can't even do his own tie."

They all scattered back to their respective dressing tables, except for Charles, who stayed with Erik.

"Everyone's wondering where Houdini's got to," Charles said, watching him carefully.

"Maybe he escaped," Erik said. "Jews are famously slippery buggers."

Moira stuck her head around the door. "Charles," she snapped. "One minute."

Charles stood, straightened his jacket and took his top hat from Raven. "I look forward to your performance, Erik," he said.

Erik didn't recall telling him his name.

**Author's Note:**

> title from Eliot's [Preludes](http://greatpoets.livejournal.com/3233530.html):
> 
> The winter evening settles down  
> With smell of steaks in passageways.  
> Six o'clock.  
> The burnt-out ends of smoky days.  
> And now a gusty shower wraps  
> The grimy scraps  
> Of withered leaves about your feet  
> And newspapers from vacant lots;  
> The showers beat  
> On broken blinds and chimney-pots,  
> And at the corner of the street  
> A lonely cab-horse steams and stamps.  
> And then the lighting of the lamps.
> 
> on my [livejournal](http://bella-epoche.livejournal.com/16528.html)


End file.
